Not Good Enough
by ScytheMeister23
Summary: After a discovery that tears people apart, the Soviet Siblings come closer than ever in an attempt to prevent it from ruining them. Trigger warnings for Blood, Self harm, alcohol, hospitals, and suicide. I had a lot of fun writing this actually. But let it be known that I wrote the story according to how I felt the characters fit the roles well, not that they'd do what they did.
1. Chapter 1

Katyusha walked to the front door of her brother, Ivan's, house, worry filling her to the brim. No one had heard from him in a while – about a week and a half. Something had to be wrong.

She knocked on the door three times in rapid succession. No answer. She tried again, three time more, but faster. Still no answer. She looked around quickly. Things that would be out of place. The Flower pots weren't moved, not even a petal out of place (although they could've used some water).

Kat searched for the one that was different from the others; a half inch shorter. Nobody would think to look underneath, too subtle. Ivan liked family with his security loopholes. He could trust his family. The key inside was taped underneath. "My God..." Katusha complained, fighting her back pain. "Damn breasts..."

The inside was dark... musty... a strong difference from the outside, and an even stronger difference from Ivan's normal exercise. If everything were okay, Ivan would've offered food and changing the thermostat to compensate the Russian weather outside, immediately asking about how it was at home and why the surprise visit. Kat's worry seemed to double as she started calling out, "Ivan? Ivan?! Where are you?!"

No Reply

Kat bolted from room to room on the first floor, her brother nowhere to be found. In the kitchen, dishes were stacked in and around the sink. The vase on the dining room table had dying sunflowers, void of light and fresh water. All the drapes had been drawn haphazardly. It felt as if Ivan had just left.

Kat ran up the stairs, ignoring the pain from the bouncing. Ivan's bedroom, the only one that looked recently used, was in severe despair. The bed was unmade, Ivan's prized matryoshka dolls in pieces on the floor, a shower of petals around the room. A distinct path from the bed to the bathroom and the bedroom door were visible. Kat stopped and observed the scene. This wasn't Ivan. Something had happened. Walking the path, slowly and cautiously, Kat maneuvered quickly to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, leaning against the wall near the toilet, was Ivan. He was nearly stripped, only his boxers, tank top, and scarf remaining. He lay in a pool of water, blood, and broken glass.

"Ivan!" Kat wailed, running to him. "Ivan! Brother!" His face was paler than normal, his bright blond hair covering bloodshot and half-open eyes. Kat dug into her handbag, which she had managed not to drop in her panic upon entering the house. Her bag had never been so cluttered before searching for her phone. Emergency services never so far away.

She watched her little brothers chest rise and fall slowly before giving up and searching for a land line around the house. She ran to his bedroom, carefully scanning Ivan's nightstands and walls for something resembling a phone. Nothing. She ran from room to room of Ivan's sizable house, hoping for something.

The kitchen was the only room, the phone was cordless as well. Kat ran back to Ivan, dialing 1-1-2-0-3 as she went. The dial-tone droned on, seemingly mocking the predicament until there was someone on the other line.

"You've reached emergency dispatch, what is the emergency?" asked a quick, male voice on the other end "Please! My little brother, I think he's tried to kill himself!" Kat practically screamed into the receiver. She was lucky the dispatch understood her the first time "What is the address please and I'll send an ambulance right away."

Kat stated the address quickly, needing to restate on account of speed. "Okay, just stay on the phone with me until the ambulance gets there. Do you know if he's breathing?" Kat looked down again, seeing Ivan's chest inflate slower than before. "Yes. But I don't think he will be for long." A short pause lasted between Kat and The Operator. "Alright, can you explain the scene to me?" Kat quickly re-observed the bathroom, having to turn on the light to get a clearer image. "Ivan..." she began, tears starting down her face "he's leaning against the wall... next to the toilet. He's sitting in a pool of water... blood... and a lot of glass."

Another pause. Kat could hear faint typing on the other end. 'Alright. Could you look at his wrists? Are there any visible cuts?" Kat inched cautiously to Ivan, moving his toned arms with ease. "Yes." she said, half gasping. "A few. They look deep."

Just then, Kat heard the sirens outside. She ran to the door to greet them and get them where they were needed. Two women pulled a stretcher out of the back of the vehicle, parked in front of the house. "Upstairs!" Kat yelled "Upstairs, to the right, first door on the left, he's in the bathroom!" Kat followed the two up to Ivan and watched them stabilize him on sight. "How long has he been like this?" one of the paramedics asked "I don't know, I only just got here about 10 minutes ago!"

Kat was panicking. How long HAD Ivan been there? Alone, bleeding, in pain. Dying. Did she come too late in her attempt to check up on him? Had she been too idle? Thinking simply that nothing was wrong? If she had gotten there five minutes later, would she and their little sister Natalya have lost their brother? Kat pushed these thoughts to the back of her mind, watching the paramedics carry her brother out on the stretcher. She was glad the two had muscle. It would've been difficult and dangerous to carry Ivan's 6' muscle filled body otherwise.

Kat grabbed her handbag and ran down with the paramedics. "Can I come too?" she asked loudly "Get in!" one of them replied. With the metal doors slammed shut behind her, the ambulance started moving. Ivan was in the middle, one of the paramedics measuring his vitals. The other was in the driver's seat. Kat sat down on the bench, next to the paramedic. "All we can do with this moment is hope." said the medic next to her. "Just hope and nothing more."


	2. Chapter 2

Not Good Enough chap 2

Kat sat in the hospital's waiting room for two things: her brother, and her sister. Many anxious texts and missed calls later, Natalya had finally been informed of the predicament. Ivan was in the hospital. Apparent suicide.

'_What would make Ivan, of all people?_' Ivan was always known for being the strongest of the siblings, even from childhood. Besides asking for help occasionally, he had been completely self sufficient and independent. Natalya even looked up to him with great respect. If they weren't siblings, she'd want a wedding. But what had happened?

Just then, Natalya burst through the door, a trench coat flowing around her shins. Finding Kat, she immediately bombarded her sister with a series of questions. "Where is he?! What happened?! Is he going to he okay?!"

Kat thought about these questions, trying to find answers. After a few seconds, she realized she wanted them too. "Nat, sit down. I don't know." Kat said slowly. The fear in her voice was apparent. She didn't know anything about the predicament. "All we can do is sit and wait..." Natalya didn't sit down. "...and hope."

Natalya stood there with serious composure, seemingly going over the situation in her mind. She finally walked over to the chair adjacent to her sister, her flats clapping against the floor. The bow she always wore in her hair was out of place, Kat noticed. Her hair was a mess, what little make up she had slightly smudged around her eyes. Natalya sat with her head held up by her hands, elbows against her knees, hunched over her purse staring straight ahead.

The toll of the predicament was obvious on both of them.

The two of them sat there, waiting for someone to come out of the double doors they both knew Ivan was somewhere behind. A doctor or nurse to tell them what happened with the treatment. An orderly to call them through to see for themselves. Perhaps Ivan himself, so they could all just leave and go to one of their houses for dinner. None of this happened.

Kat looked at her cell phone, the one it had taken so long to find earlier. 8:57. It had been nearly five hours since Ivan was admitted, yet the entire incident seemed to have occurred centuries ago. Kat's stomach grumbled slightly, but loud enough for Natalya to notice. Natalya glanced over, keeping her serious composure, then began sifting through her purse. She took out her wallet, and opened it, checking the bills.

Natalya replaced everything, stepping up and looking at the hospital's map layout on the opposite wall. "_What?_" Kat wondered. Natalya turned to face her sister "Come on, let's get some food." Kat stared at her sister, confused. "But... What about Ivan? What if someone -" Natalya cut her off. "Ivan wouldn't want us to go hungry. He'd feel terrible knowing he went hungry for him. He'd feel even worse about this whole ordeal knowing that he put us through the trouble." Natalya stated in a monotonous tone. Kat simply stared and ran the words over in her mind. She knew how Ivan worked, and obviously Natalya did too. He would feel so much guilt from this. This was the least they could do for him at this point.

Kat stood up and moved next to her sister. "Where's the food court? Or what they call them in hospital's?" Kat asked solemnly. The thought of not being here when Ivan needs them ran through her head. She hated it. "Just follow me." Natalya stated, still monotonous, walking off with a definite idea of where she was going. A college girl like her was hard to come by.

Kat followed her, Natalya leading down 3 hallways, two lefts, and a right, their shoes clapping the floor in unison before getting somewhere that seemed like the right place. "I'm buying. Just pick some stuff out." Natalya stated. The arrangement seemed varied: some soups, some solid foods, some thing's that would look more at home in another country. But Ivan stayed on Kat's mind. She needed something to help get him off of it. "I want that pizza." she said blatantly, pointing out some slices behind the plexi-glass counter.

Natalya's eyes widened. "Since when do you eat pizza?" Kat never did. She didn't enjoy anything about it: the taste, the texture, the smell. It was too different from the stews she had grown up eating. "I just need something to get my mind off Ivan." Natalya took a second to think before nodding and ordering their assortments. Neither of them ate very much, a combination of bad food and no appetites, though it had been a late dinner for both of them. They both sat silently, the only sound in the form of Kat's chewy pizza crust.

"How much do you know?" Natalya asked after what seemed like a long while. Confused, Kat stopped eating for a moment, trying to think. "About what happened." Natalya continued. "Your messages said you found him like that." Kat stared at her sister, thinking.

Should anything be left out? How much should be said exactly? What's this going to do to her? These questions ran through her head before she began. "I went to his house to check on him. He didn't answer the door when I came, so I used his flower pot key to let myself in. The house only seemed to resemble his. There were no lights on, only shadows brought upon from the outside. There was dust everywhere, and the house was in complete disarray. I searched his house quickly, finding him in his bathroom. In a puddle of blood, water, and glass. I called an ambulance, rode with them here, and had been in the waiting room since."

Natalya stared down at her food, pondering the information. Kat had seen her in a serious mood before, but never like this. The circumstances were far more severe than anything they had encountered together as siblings. Nothing at all. Even their estranged fathers weren't as bad as this, as their mother was their only common relation. None of them cared. Family was family.

They both finished just after 9:30, seemingly in worse moods then when they'd come. The walk back to the waiting room seemed longer than before, though perhaps there had been more people walking by. The waiting room seemed quieter as well, the two sisters alone in their shared world, almost lacking a sibling. They sat in the same adjacent chairs and when they had left, waiting for the answers they clearly needed.

"Hey Kat? You said that you rode with the ambulance here, right?" Kat thought for a moment, wondering what had brought the question up. "Yes... why?" She responded curiously. "So you left your car at Ivan's house?"

Kat hadn't even thought of this. She did leave it at Ivan's house. "I did actually..." She responded. Kat eyeballed her little sister curiously. "So I'll have to drive you there to pick it up?" Natalya asked. Once again, Kat had no choice. "Yes, that'd be appreciated."

Natalya looked over at her sister, a small, rare smile placed on her face. "You should also lock Ivan's front door while we're there." Kat thought about this response. She didn't think to lock his front door before she left. She didn't know why, but this made her smile and chuckle. Of all the things that could've been thought of, Natalya remembered his door. "I guess I should. That'd be a good idea indeed."

The two sisters sat smiling at each other over the thought. "Once we see Ivan. Make sure he's okay." Kat said, grabbing her sisters hand. Natalya gripped her sisters hand, knowing she was not alone in the ordeal.

After a couple minutes of sitting together, a woman in a white doctors coat walked through the double doors.


	3. (Intermission)

Ivan was stuck. A constant loop. A constant play back of what had happened nearly two weeks ago, the day playing over and over and over again. He wasn't counting, but he would've lost track anyway.

Wake up at six, on the dot. Daily ritual. Nothing out of the ordinary. Glance around the room, get an idea on what's going on, nothing out of place. His walls lined with shelved that held his prized dolls, the dolls of his country. Fresh sunflowers on his nightstand. Today is Saturday. Stay in bed, stretch out a little bit. Feel good before getting up, maybe roll over and go back to sleep. But no. Not this day.

Get up, put your robe on. The single disadvantage to sleeping in the nude: not everyone does it, so when you do it, all the neighbors might freak out. Robe, slippers: Check. Tie the robe extra tight in case it's windy. Head downstairs, go outside, and get the paper. Head back inside to get the coffee started and make something for breakfast. Something not very traditional: Pancakes. Easy to do, tasty. It works.

Make lot's. Five or six. Otherwise your stomach won't keep quiet. The jam and syrup are necessary, butter too, but you ran out and forgot to get more. Maybe you could call Francis...

_**FRANCIS.**_

You forgot. He was meant to come over today. Noon? Sometime around there. You can't remember. You just decide to leave him a text. He'll read it when he wakes up. It'd take a train to wake him up if not on his own. _"On your way over, would you mind picking me up some butter please? Also what time were you coming over again?"_

Now the waiting game. It's always some time before he re-

**Ching**

A reply already? Hmmm... _"I'm on my way over now." _Hmm... that's odd... considering he's even awake at this hour. He either woke up early or didn't sleep. Poor thing. _"Can't wait." _you reply. That's all the answer he needs. And his 20 minute journey should allow you enough time for a shower and getting dressed. Better hop to.

You spend forever in the shower. You can't help it. The feeling of the warm water trickling down your limbs combined with the threat of the harsh cold outside are enough reason to make you over stay. You get out to a doorbell ringing. Damn, he you must've spent more time than you though. You hurry into your boxers and a shirt, grabbing some deodorant on your way out. '_At least it's something._' you figure, and rush to answer the door.

You see Francis Bonnefoy: Your boyfriend and committed lover of the past year and a half. "Hallo." He says as you invite him in, making his French origin obvious. "Come, we must talk." You stare, confused at the statement. "A- Alright." You close the door and follow him down the hall to the kitchen, each of you sitting at opposite ends of the table.

"Ivan... You know I love you, correct?" Francis asks somewhat sheepishly. You stare at him somewhat awkwardly. "Of course, as I love you. Why must you ask?" You reply. Your heart starts going fast. This is it. This is the day you've been dreading. Past relationships have already taught you to be careful with your heart, and this was a risk. Now you get to face the consequences. Eyes widening, heart racing, you wait for it. The words that end it. There's never an exact number, though. But they always mean the same thing.

"I've been thinking.. for a while now..." Francis begins, but your mind instantly starts racing. "_Oh god, oh god, oh god..._" It's finally here. "We don't really work together."


	4. Chapter 3

Ivan was lying in the hospital bed. A short sleeved hospital gown let Kat and Natalya see his arms: both of them were wrapped from the base of the hand to the elbow in crisp, white gauze. They both gasped at how different he was from the last time they each had seen him. He was unconscious, the only movement coming from his chest rising and falling.

"He'd lost quite a bit of blood by the time he got here..." The doctor said in an English accent. "... both of his wrists were cut deeply, and looked fairly intentional. He needed a few transfusions given his mass, and the staff cleaned him the best they could."

Kat looked at the doctor. She was shorter than herself, a few inches at least. 5' 6" about. The doctor had blond hair reaching about her mid back, styled in pig tails and swept either shoulder. The color of her glasses reminded Kat of Ivan's bathroom floor. A name tag on her coat said 'Kirkland, A. MMD.'

"There were wounds besides intentional ones. Based on your..." She motioned to Kat "... and the paramedics description of the scene, we're assuming he hit something made of glass with his arms, then used the shards to... well you know." She stopped short, noticing Kat's pale green color and Natalya's shivering. "Once he wakes up, he should make a full recovery. The scars should fade away with time."

Kat and Natalya stood there, dumbfounded. Their brother, in the hospital, from attempted suicide. The idea had them before, but was now taking full effect. Now that they had finally seen him like this. His defeated body, still holding his soul. He'd put many holes in it, but how long until the soul leaked out? _'Hopefully not for a while...'_ Kat thought _'a long while.'_

"I can't look at him." Natalya said, turning towards the door. "I can't look at him the way he is." She burst through the door with fluid steps, Kat's steps stuttering after her. "Natalya! Wait!"

This was bad. Natalya was angry. No telling what she'd do in this situation. It was always different with her. Sometimes, if the conditions were right, she'd just sit at her desk and think about it. But those conditions were that she was she was actually IN her dorm room and what had made her angry was caused over the phone, or another indirect communication form. These were not those conditions.

The last situation that resembled this, Alfred and Ivan had been arguing over who could manage their club better, their club being something from high school about the board game _Risk, _the closest thing one can come to world domination: Ivan, already the leader of a few respected clubs; or Alfred, the snotty teenage American know-it-all. Five years ago, when Natalya was seventeen, she decided to attend a meeting with her big brother. The argument sent Natalya over the edge, leaving Alfred with a bloody nose and Ivan with Natalya's foot print on his chest coupled with a broken rib.

She couldn't believe such a feud was started over a board game, and was lucky the meeting wasn't actually at the school that day. She was lucky the parent's didn't press charges.

This time, Natalya was dangerous and moving. And she had a car. Kat followed Natalya closely behind, giving questions Natalya practically refused to answer. "What are you doing? Where are you going?" Kat watched Natalya grab the car keys out of her purse

They both walked outside, into the cold night, and got to Natalya's tiny, two-door car. Surprisingly, Natalya let Kat into the passenger's seat. "Natalya. What are you trying to do?!" Kat exclaimed, closing the door. Natalya stepped into her seat slowly, closing the door and locking both of them. Dropping the keys into her lap, she grasped the steering wheel and began sobbing.

Not violent sobbing. Not quiet sobbing. Just... sobbing. Natalya grabbed the wheel and placed her head on it, not hard enough to activate the horn. Kat sat there, watching. That was all she could do. Even since they were young, she had never seen her younger sister cry. "Natalya..." Kat began, not realizing it was difficult to find the words. She'd had many friends need emotional support before, so she was more than willing to provide. However, she didn't know how to comfort her sister at all.

"It's... It's alright." Kat attempted, to no avail. Kat sat there, watching her younger sister let out her emotions. She attempted to take her sister's hand. "Natalya..." Her sister took her hand away and leaned back on the seat, having stopped her tears to some degree. "It's just..." Natalya paused, having equal trouble finding words. "Why?" She questioned. "Why would he do this?"

Kat had been wondering the same thing for as long as she'd known. Since she found him on his bathroom floor. "I don't know." Kat responded. It was the only correct answer she could give. "But he's going to survive the night. And when he wakes up, we'll both be there to comfort him. And then we'll get our answers."

Natalya was breathing slowly, having stopped crying completely. She turned her head toward her sister. "You really think he will? He'll just tell us? He'll just be so open with why you found him in a pool of... stuff... with glass in his arms?"

Kat thought for a moment. "He will. Because we're his family."

Natalya looked at her sister, her expression returning to the stoic condition it had been when they first saw each other that day. "I'll take your word for it. That's at least _something_ to believe." Natalya said, the smallest hint of malice in her words. Natalya was not one to be lied to.

"Alright, so what now?" Kat asked. Natalya padded around her lap for the keys she had dropped. "We're going to Ivan's. We've seen him, he's okay, and we'll be lucky if no one has robbed his house."

Kat stopped and thought about that for a second. "Okay, let's just go." She said as Natalya started the car. That thought was not welcome at the moment. The only thing to be thought of right now, was for Ivan to get better. And a house intruder was not something he should worry about.


	5. Chapter 4

Kat watched as the lamp posts on the sidewalk passed, Natalya's car going through the city. Every one passed as the sisters got closer and closer to their brother's house. Closer and closer to where it happened.

"Do you think we should... I don't know... clean up the area?" Kat asked, breaking the silence. Natalya watched the road in front of her, her face unbroken. Her deep thought face. Or just her neutral face. Kat couldn't tell. "Do you think you'll be okay going up there again?" Natalya asked, eyes not breaking from the road.

Kat pondered this idea. "No." The car returned to silence. The next few minutes passed slower then they should have, though they were still passing. They were still getting closer to Ivan's house. They were going to make it there, whether Kat liked it or not. "Do you still have his house key?" Natalya asked, breaking the silence again. Kat reached into her pocket, struggling with the space limitations. "I'm going to do this. You've gone through enough today." Natalya said, taking the key from her sister.

Kat wasn't about to argue. She definitely didn't want to, though it had to be done. The car had also just turned on Ivan's street.

Kat watched the house get closer, her heart beat rising. _'Only anxiety...'_ she assured herself _'I can do this...'_ The car stopped behind Kat's. A few feet from where the ambulance had been parked. "I'll only be a few minutes." Natalya said, getting out of the car. _'A few minutes... what's she me-'_

She watched Natalya venture into the house. Kat simply looked in aw. Had she really just done that? Gone in to see where her brother nearly died? Kat thought about the scene again: Ivan laying there, a pool of water and blood. Glass everywhere. She had to stop herself before she started crying again.

A minute passed. Or at least 10:57 became 10:58. Kat had already gotten lost in her thoughts and forgotten how long Natalya had been in there.

The time was 10:59 for a bit before Natalya came back out, locking the door behind her and hurrying to her driver's seat. Kat looked at her awkwardly for a few seconds, awaiting a reaction. There was nothing but silence between them.

The time became 11:01.

"I had to check if anyone had broken in." Natalya started. "Either just for items or for a place to sleep. Naturally I had to check all the rooms." Natalya stopped. Kat sat there, mentally analyzing her words. Natalya had seen all the destruction around their brother's house. She had seen the consequences of his breakdown. She had seen what Kat could barely handle.

"Are you going to go back to the hospital?" Natalya asked, her tone different at the word 'hospital'. "I think so. I'll have to call into work to say I'm not coming in tomorrow." Kat paused. "I'll want to be there when Ivan wakes up. Give him something nice to look at. Something comforting." Natalya simply nodded with these ideas. "I'll go with you. I don't have class tomorrow anyway."

Kat nodded, and reached to get out of the car. "Wait!" Natalya exclaimed. "You deserve to know." Kat looked at her sister, curious. She rarely raised her voice, however today, it'd been happening a lot. "Ivan's bathroom. He wasn't in a pool of water." Kat eyed her sister, even curiouser. _'Of course it had been water, clear, diluted blood... What else could it be?'_

"It was vodka."

Kat froze in her seat. It all made sense. Everything. The glass, his attire... his eyes... _'Oh, his eyes...'_ Kat couldn't stand to think about it. _'He was drunk...'_ Kat stepped out of the car, getting her keys out of her bag. "I'll meet you there?" Kat asked through the still open door. "Yeah. Don't get lost." Kat closed the door, moving between the cars to her own.

Her own car felt different, though she couldn't put her finger on it. She checked around the car for reassurance. Nothing had been moved. Nothing had been misplaced. No one was hiding in the back seat. Nothing was different.

_'Hm.'_ Kat thought to herself. _'Maybe the car just felt like it had to be different too.'_ She inserted her key into the ignition and turned, hearing the motor run. _'At least that hasn't changed.'_ Kat thought, as she pulled out into the street.


	6. (Intermission 2)

_***Ring-Ring-Ring. Ring-Ring-Ring. Ring-Ring-Ring***_

You hear the phone going off. Probably your boss calling to yell at you again. You start to wonder whether or not you should even answer it.

You decide on no. Let it keep ringing. They can't be serious anyway. Always talking about how they're worrying about you. "Where are you? Are you okay?" Pft. Bull shit. They just want to know why you're doing things for them.

Where's the ringing even coming from anyway? It sounds like it's coming from everywhere. Perhaps from you. You look at the small black rectangle on your chest. This maybe? You pick it up, and the sound moves with it. Yup. From your bed, you throw it as hard as you can across the room. Maybe it'll shut the fuck up now that you've shown your dominance.

It hits the wooden planks attached to the wall that you have stuff on. The plank falls, it's contents dropping everywhere. The ringing stopped at least. Good. It was making your head hurt.

There's a bottle in your other hand. Almost empty. What a shame. That was some good stuff. Burns, but good. The pain feels kinda nice anyway. Like burning away the old so the new can grow. Or you're a masochist. Something along those lines.

You lay there for... let's face it, you said 'fuck it' to time a long time ago. You don't even know how long ago, for that matter. Why bother when you're just happy doing this?

You have to get up though. Get more of that bottled stuff. The stuff you had. Where's your scarf? Can't go out without your scarf.

You start getting out of bed, failing once or twice, stumbling to the foot of it.

Ah yes, your scarf. Can't go anywhere without it. If you ever do go anywhere without it, you're either dead or dying. At least from your perspective anyway. Perspective. Did you use that correctly? Fuck it. Doesn't matter. Just ignore the cold and go.

Don't fall down all these ledges. That'd be painful. Knowing that doesn't effect you when you step too hard and slip on the last one. Oh well. You're almost to that place you keep more of the bottles in. You can't remember how to get there though. Just go from room to room until the floor changes color you guess. Right now it's brown with a lot of lines going the same way.

Room to room, the floor colors change. It's never the right one though, you need white. All of these are brown. Well there's some red over there too, but still. Maybe you'll go there anyway, nice change. Head straight for it.

You look around here for a bit, and you see it. Right next to you. Theres a white floor. Stand between the divide of white and red. The metal box is over there. So far away. Just go...

The floor is cold. Must've had this room made of ice or something. Makes sense. No wonder this is where you keep the cold stuff. Just make it to the box. The thing. At least you don't need another thing to open it. Just grab the bottle and go. But there must be a blizzard inside...

Fuck it.

You grab the bottle and close it, keeping the blizzard in there. Good. Now the return trip. Should you make a plan or just go to random rooms again? Fuck. Decisions. Just go through a door for now.

Oh. The stairs, right there. Nice.

Just go back up. Careful though, mountain climbing can be hard.

Get to the top in one piece. Good. Your room's that way. Good thing too, you gotta take a leak.

Just get over there without losing your loot. Your sweet ass loot at that.

Get in, go to that other door. The door farther away, not that one. There's nothing you need in there. Close the door? Fuck it. No one's came to get you. They don't care maybe? You just climbed a mountain yourself. Nope. No fucks are given. Put the bottle on the counter across from you. Take off that thing you keep around your crotch for whatever reason. Or whatever, just don't drench them in piss. Don't feel like finding new ones.

Get rid of the door, thingy. Sit your ass down in case you need to do more than expected. Finally.

Sit there. Think. You've been active for so long, you deserve a nice break. Think about how no one's there. How no one helped you. No one came when you were wailing. Fuck. That's rough. Just sit there with a straight face. Then suddenly, he crosses your mind.

_**FRANCIS**_

You think about him. Let your eyes well up in tears. You remember his long golden locks. His accent, even thicker than yours. His lean, fit body. You can't help but let the tears run down your cheeks. Suddenly it's as if the dikes in Holland broke. Just sit there, covering them, wailing again. Why. Why did this have to happen. You didn't give him enough time to say...

You're done with that other thing. You do the thing that makes it so you can do it again later and pull your crotch covering garment back up. Where's your bottle. You need that right now. Just take it. But wait. These thoughts need to be gone. You hate them. They hate you more. Get rid of them.

That bottle. It's hard. It's made of that hard stuff that gets sharp sometimes. You gotta...

Take a swig for good luck. You don't wanna make another trip. You shoulda brought back more.

Hit the wall. As hard as you can. It hurts. But it doesn't work. That's some strong glass. They probably planned this out. Take another swig of luck, you need it more now. Try again.

The glass shatters, leaving itself in pieces all over the floor. All that wonderful liquid gold you worked hard for is down with it. There's some pain in your arms... Ignore it. Get down there. There should be some shards big enough. Just sit against the wall, all this activity is making you feel weird.

Look around and you see it. The perfect shard. Good enough angle. Nice grip. Grab it. Don't think, just do it.

Take it. Put it to your wrist. Glide across. Don't be afraid to go hard, if you feel it; it'll be over soon enough. Don't worry about the mess, that's someone else's problem. Now do the other one.

You just sit there. It's pouring out of you. You almost slump onto the floor. If the vodka got into your wounds, that'd feel terrible.

Wait.

_**WAIT.**_

What the fuck are you doing?

No. That's not how it's supposed to be done. This isn't a fucking game, and if it is then that's cheating.

Fuck. You're too weak to get up, you must've cut deep. Damn it. And the room looks like it's getting darker too.

You're not gonna live through the night. You'll barely live through the day if you're lucky. You have to do something but... So weak.

You hear noises downstairs. Screaming. Screaming your name. You can't scream back though. You can barely breathe now. If only they knew...

"Ivan!"

You see someone who sounds like your older sister burst through the door. You can barely move your head to see her clearly enough though. At least if you die now, you won't be alone. She'll... She'll take care of you.

She just left but she'll come back... you can hear her coming back now. It... It'll all be okay...

You wake up in a white room, your sisters Katyusha and Natalya sleeping in chairs to the right of you.

You can't help yourself, but you remember. You remember everything.


	7. Chapter 5

Katyusha awoke from her unnatural position in some state of panic. Her dreams had led her to believe that she was in the process of falling, with nowhere to fall to. Gasping, she looked over her little sister, sitting next to her; an anchor of sorts, reminding her that she was still alive. She rubbed her eyes, weary from the seemingly little sleep she got, though the clock on the wall suggesting otherwise. Kat took a deep breath, her heart finishing its race, and glanced at the body in front of her. Her heart started again when she noticed the face staring back at her.

"Are you okay sister?" Ivan asked from the bed. Kat's heart seemed to come to a stop. Ivan, who she had found nearly dead yesterday, was speaking to her as if nothing had happened. His face remained stoic, though his eyes wide and curious. His words still held light of what he was before this had happened.

"I… I'm fine. I'm alright." Kat lied a little. She still hadn't gotten over the scenes of yesterday. "How… How are you feeling?" She questioned in response.

Ivan lay there, his head rolling as if his eyes didn't want to move. "I've got a bit of a headache."

Katyusha sat, watching her brother. He looked confused, looking at items around the room or even at the blank wall across him. Though he seemed to recognize objects and know where he was, he still seemed confused.

"How did you.. uh... sleep?" Kat asked, trying to break the silence. Ivan turned his eyes sharply, his head soon following. His eyebrows were risen in a way that suggested he was well aware of anything and everything. "It was... good. Could've been better, but I'm not complaining." Ivan stated, staring at Kat knowingly.

As awkward as the stare was, it wasn't menacing, nor impatient. It wasn't meant to be anything other than that. A stare. Even though it made Kat obviously uncomfortable. The tension was tangible. Kat could feel it on her skin.

An elephant in the room would've been lovely in comparison.

Ivan's eyebrows lowered, his eyes shrinking. He seemed to realize what the problem was. He looked down at himself in shame. "Ivan it's alright. That happened and we stopped it. You're alive now." Kat said to her unresponsive brother. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. He was looking at his wrists. The things that'd brought them all there.

Ivan didn't want to respond. He didn't want to share reasons. No. "Ivan, please. I care about you, Natalia cares about you. We love you. We don't want to live in a world without you. We're not supposed to be putting our siblings in the ground yet. Ivan sat, unwilling to cooperate. "This isn't what people like us do at our age."

There was a short pause. Kat was standing now, tears almost in her eyes before Ivan broke the silence. "Because. I didn't think anyone did." Ivan said solemnly. "I didn't think that anyone cared. I didn't think that you or Natalia cared. I didn't think the neighbors cared, I didn't think my bosses cared. I didn't think that Frances cared..."

Kat took all the information in with stride, up until Frances. _'Frances, did something happen between them? What am I thinking of course something did.' _Kat thought, as she was now pacing the room. "Francis broke up with me. He claimed that he didn't feel we were on the same level or something. I don't remember, he said that he wanted to break up and I turned hysterical. A while later I got the vodka out. I remember everything since then. Give or take the time I spent in my drunken stupor."

Kat had to sit back down. "What made you think this was the answer then? I'm pretty sure you would've run out of vodka at least." Kat put her head in her hands, trying to put the pieces he had given her together.

Ivan looked back down at his wrists, the crisp white gauze feeling constrictive. "I've tried." Ivan began. "I've tried so hard. I've tried so hard to love everybody. To let everyone know that at least someone loves them. I'm hospitable, I'm open minded, I listen to everybody's opinion and let them know that someone cares. But I can tell you that never once has anybody ever done that for me. Never once has anybody stayed with me long enough to care about me. Never once has anybody invited me out except for when I just happen to be there, or even invite me out at all. The second time Frances even invited me over was the second time that had even happened with anybody since roughly the fifth grade. The only people who really care are the people who are supposed to. And I hate it. I never made mom proud, nor even felt comfortable in my own skin, nor can even make somebody else happy. And... I... I just hate it."

Kat looked at her brother with solemn eyes, unable to say anything. It was never known to her that this was what really went on in his head. So much regret. Sorrow. Anger. Kat was frozen.

They both heard moans from beside Kat. Natalia sat up and straightened her back with a scowl formed at Kat, a normal thing for her. She turned to Kat, the to Ivan before figuring out what was going on. "Ivan!" She screamed, jumping up from her chair. She immediately ran and gave Ivan a hug. Even though she stood awkwardly, she still felt it was necessary. "I've missed you. I've missed you so much." She nearly whined.

Ivan looked at Kat from behind, eyes widened. "I missed you too, Nat." He said in a calm voice. Natalia reluctantly let go, smiling that her brother was awake. She sat down and was almost giddy with enthusiasm before realizing she had jumped into something.

"Did I interrupt?" She asked, questioning Kat's shocked face. "I'm going to go get some flowers..." She said, an attempt to leave the two alone. She closed the door with an audible thud.

Kat eyed Ivan, offended. "I suppose if I say that I love you, it won't matter to you will it. At least not as much, seeing as how I'm supposed to." Ivan lay there, feeling guilt with what he had said. "It's not that it doesn't matter. It does. Seeing Natalia's eyes light up at the event of my waking was nice. I haven't seen her that excited in years."

Kat was suspicious. "I suppose if it's anything. You can come and talk to me about anything. Because I'll always be here for you." Kat said cautiously. "I never said it didn't matter. I just said you were the only ones. I didn't say that it didn't matter. It matters a lot actually."

"I love you Ivan, I never want anything to happen to you. Even if it is from yourself."

Ivan looked down in guilt. "I know. If I'd been sober at the time that... THIS..." He motioned to his arms. "It wouldn't have happened."

Natalia opened the door slowly, Dr. Kirkland following behind her. "They don't sell flowers here." Natalia said on her way to her chair. "Sorry about that. We have too many patients with allergies at this time." Dr. Kirkland replied. "We don't want it to cause problems for them. Hello, Mr. Braginsky, I'm Dr. Kirkland, I'm in charge of your case."

"What were you two talking about?" Natalia whispered as Ivan and the Doctor discussed. "Oh, things. About this." Kat replied. That was all Natalia was getting out of her.


	8. Two months later

Ivan left the small room behind the rest of the group, passing the poorly made, hand done sign on his way out reading "Depression Support Group". The familiar hallways were known like the back of his hand. _'Two lefts and a right, then straight out the doors.' _Ivan thought as he walked. He walked past the nurses that smiled as he passed, likely knowing his admission a couple months prior, the metal detector that caught him on his way out continually, and the metal doors keeping the outside, out.

Ivan's trench coat and coat flowed behind him every step until he reached his car. The car automatically locked when started, the radio blasting music and the heat turning on to compensate the almost freezing whether outside. "A little piece of home on the road." Kat had called it.

Ivan got out a pocket note-pad and pen, crossing off 'support group' from the list. Behind it were, in order: shower, cash check, post office. Afterward he had written 'shopping center'. _'Oh yeah... milk.'_ He put the car into drive and headed in the direction.

Watching the cars go by was soothing. A quick flash of color against the cold, gray asphalt. The people on the sidewalk, however. All he could see was Frances, and keeping his eyes on the road was all he could do. _'Just get to the center then get home. There's a movie on soon anyway.'_ he thought as he made his venture.

Ivan arrived at the shopping center, quickly locking his sedan's doors, and making his way inside. He pulled out his note-pad again and drew to another page. "Alright... milk, beef, some cake mix... I wanted cake this morning?" He said aloud to himself as he walked. Once inside, he grabbed a carrier basket as he walked past and made his way quickly through the store for his items.

Ivan stood and pondered the cake mixes. Red velvet, chocolate, angel food... so many choices. A young Asian man appeared beside him. Ivan's heart started with surprise, but soon slowed. He seemed to be making the same decision. His long black hair tied back and his long red sleeves suggested a unique fashion sense, one that Ivan wanted to know more about.

"Can I help you?" Ivan asked, not showing his nerves. The man stood for a second, as if thinking of words. "I want a cake... or something sweet... doesn't matter what, just something easy to make that tastes good." The man spoke with an accent, definitely placing his birth somewhere in Asia. A dragon head snaking onto his neck from below his shirt suggested China.

"Is there anyway I can help you with that?" Ivan asked curiously, a new mission being placed in his head. "Hmmmm..." the man said, seemingly in deep thought. "How about..." he began "... you pick one out, then we both go to my house to make it."

Ivan stood there, confused. Was he being... flirted with? "I'm... sorry?" Ivan asked nervously. "Did I stutter?" the man asked. Ivan thought about this. He was definitely cute... straight forward too. Ivan liked this. "O... Okay." Ivan said, grabbing a random box from the shelf. "But change it to my place. There's a movie I want this cake for."

"Perfect." The man said, nearly missing the 'R'. "I'll follow you then. Meet me out front with your things." He began to walk away. "Oh, my name is Yao by the way." He said, extending his sleeve covered hand.

Ivan looked from where Yao had been to the cake mix in his hand. He had grabbed 'Devil's food'. "Hmmm... this'll need icing. Maybe some sprinkles." Ivan said nearly running to the correct aisle, his face as red as his nations flag.

If anything, Yao could at least get his mind off of Francis. Or perhaps something more.


End file.
